


First Words

by anniviech



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Soulmates, and a teeny tiny bit of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 13:51:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9237812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anniviech/pseuds/anniviech
Summary: John Noble was more than fine with ignoring the ominous tattoo on his body that predicted his soulmate's first words to him.That is, until a certain charming stranger on his regular bus actually said them - just to walk out on him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started out very randomly one evening inspired by a post on tumblr for the following prompt:
> 
> _Soulmate!AU where you wake up on your 18th birthday with the first words your soulmate will say to you tattooed on your body, so you’ll know them when you meet them._

When John Noble had woken up on his eighteenth birthday, he hadn't even thought to check his body for the ominous words he knew would most likely be haunting him for a good part of his life (as they were wont to do with most people).  
That day had passed in a blur of grey rain clouds and countless offers of condolences from darkly dressed people he barely took any note of - some more genuine than others - as he found himself alone in the world, for good now. The last living member of the Noble family.

It hadn't been until a week later when he'd bumped his toe on one of the moving boxes and taken his sock off to check how bad it was that he'd discovered the small words on the inside of his right ankle:

_'Blimey, and I thought my choice had been bad!'_

The realisation of the meaning behind the tattoo had come crushing down on him, and the tears he had stubbornly managed to hold back all week finally found their escape down his cheeks.

What was the point of letting people get close to him when he was just going to lose them again?

* * *

He decided to never let his eyes linger on those words again - out of sight, out of mind - choosing to cover his ankle with long trousers even in the hottest of summers, earning him several raised eyebrows on occasion.

But words of such importance had a way of burning themselves deeply into memory, anyway.

And so John still found himself having dozens of small near heart attacks in the course of the following years, whenever he heard a stranger around him say 'blimey'.  
The shock of the moment was usually quick to fade again though, since it often ended at only that single word or in a completely different context, and as more and more time passed he began to react continually less to hearing it.

As he grew older and the pain of loss lessened just the slightest bit with time, he began opening up enough to allow some attraction to affect him. He went through a few casual relationships, keeping things nice and simple, often with the help of not having exchanged those fateful words on first meetings, so his partners tended not to be hurt too much if he decided to end things between them when they grew a little too close for comfort to him – they still had their soulmates waiting for them somewhere, after all.

Ending his last relationship had been a little harder than usual, though, and it had made him wary of throwing himself into another one, so he enjoyed his single life for a longer while.

It wasn't until he began noticing an attractive blonde on the same bus he tended to take home in the evenings, who started to greet him with kind smiles after the first few times they shared it, that he began warming up to the potential idea of dating again. The bus tended to be horribly crowded due to the hour, though, so he always spotted her on the other end of it, with dozens of people blocking his way. And with her getting out several stops before his, they never really got into conversation.

The more often they shared the bus, the brighter her smile seemed to get, and one time his answering grin must have been ridiculously wide, since he saw her biting her full bottom lip to hold in the laughter that he swore he could see sparkling in her eyes, even over the distance.

They began communicating via facial expressions and hand gestures after that; it started with an exchange about a fellow drunk passenger whose stench of alcohol was filling the bus in a most unpleasant way, and later about the premises they passed, gesticulating to let the other know if they liked a pub with both thumbs pointing up or advised against visiting a particular restaurant with a grimace and shake of head. He even concluded that she must've eaten spoilt food in one, when she seemed to hold her belly with one hand (as far as he could see, at least) and the back of the other against her forehead, hinting at sickness – her adorably scrunched up face underlining the notion. He made a mental note to stay away from that one.

John was beginning to actually look forward to the crowded rides home, the silly ‘communication’ with his mysterious, pretty blonde filling him with more joy than he would ever have expected. (Once she had gifted him with a gorgeous tongue touched smile after a particularly enthusiastic gesture of his, making his stomach flutter in a peculiar way. He was definitely looking forward to the possibility of getting another smile of that kind.)

When the bus wasn't quite as crowded as usual for the first time ever since he'd noticed her one evening, he made his way over to where he'd spotted her, pushing past people with half-hearted apologies, but when he finally reached her seat, she was distracted by a conversation with someone on the phone.

He froze when he realised she was talking to what sounded very much to be her bloke, who she'd apparently be meeting at the next stop from what he gathered.

'Course such a gorgeous woman would be already taken – he should've expected it, really.  
Didn't stop his heart from sinking, though.

(But then again, maybe it was better that way, a small voice at the back of his mind told him. He didn't even really know anything personal about her, and yet he was already feeling a connection – he would've probably just run into danger of getting way too close to her, anyway. In a way he might not be able to handle if he were to lose it again.)

He quickly made his way to a close free seat before she could turn her head and spot him (and the disappointed look on his face), and plopped down into it. But soon after his bum met the surface, he realised there was a reason why the seat had been free and that he'd made a mistake by sitting down on it; cold wetness seeped through the material of his trousers, making him jump up and automatically wipe at the wet part. His hands came back sticky and when he sniffed at them he pulled a face, cursing about 'of course having to choose the one seat drenched with beer, of all things' under his breath.

This just wasn't his day.

He stared awkwardly at his hands, unsure of what to do about them, when a voice suddenly sounded right behind his shoulder.

"Blimey, and I thought _my_ choice had been bad!"

John turned and saw his lovely (and sadly most likely already taken, he reminded himself) blonde standing next to him, with her tongue tucked between her teeth in a (gorgeous) grin and amusement sparkling in her eyes, and he was so surprised by the sudden sight that it took him a moment to notice she was pointing at her feet. Following her gesture with his eyes, he saw her lift her right shoe off the ground, pulling sticky strings from a chewing gum along with it.

When he looked up again after she'd put it back down, he only had the split of a second to react when she threw a packet of tissues at him, stumping him again with the sudden action.

"Gotta hurry - return them later?" she requested with a bright smile while making her way to the open doors (he hadn't even noticed the bus had come to a stop), the chewing gum making smacking noises under her shoe, and gave him a small wave before stepping out of the bus.

He never even got to say a word before the doors closed behind her and the bus began to move again.

John stared at the packet of tissues in his hand, before finally getting one out and making use of it. As he was wiping his hands, he replayed the scene that had just occured in his mind, and he registered only then that she'd used the once dreaded expression ‘blimey’ – and that it had been the first time he'd ever heard anyone say that exact, complete phrase actually directed at him... Funny coincidence, that.

He had seen her on so many evenings in the bus, communicating in that comical, silent way of theirs - creating a connection between them that would actually make him call her an acquaintance by now - that it didn't even dawn on him that those had also been the _first words_ she'd ever actually said to him until the bus reached his stop.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, wow, thank you all for the kudos and kind comments! :)
> 
> This story started out as spontaneous oneshot at first, with no real plans on continuation, but people on tumblr asked for a sequel and I actually did have some more ideas - so here is part two~

The following three days found John staying late at the labs he worked at, to work on some side projects he had been neglecting a little for the past few weeks but now found to be a strangely convenient time to catch up on.

It just so happened that it also meant he missed his regular bus.

On the fourth day he was more or less forced to leave on time, since his lab was closed just when they were reaching the end of the regular working hours, with an ordered deep clean after an accident involving an inexperienced intern, a distracted colleague, and highly toxic chemicals. (The thought of having lost hours of research in the blink of an eye due to the contamination had considerably lowered his already dampened spirits.)

He briefly entertained the idea of taking a walk to the next bus station instead of his usual one, knowing he wouldn't make it in time to catch his regular bus then – but it seemed the weather, too, conspired against him, as what had started out as a slight drizzle half an hour before the accident had now turned into a proper downpour.  
It were moments like these that made him wonder if he shouldn't invest the time to get a driver's licence after all.

Sighing, he realised he was running out of excuses for not taking his usual bus – and thus avoiding the chance of seeing _her_ again.  
The attractive blonde with the gorgeous smile and twinkling eyes, who fate had supposedly meant for him to spend his life with. (And who, if he was honest, had already occupied his mind for quite a while before he'd even been aware of that particular fact.)

The attractive, most likely fated for him blonde – _who already seemed to be in a relationship_.

Of course it would be just his luck to meet his soulmate when she was already with someone else. If life had taught him one thing, then it was that John Noble was apparently not meant to be with people he loved; or they'd just end up being ripped away from him if they grew too close.

Maybe it was for the best that she was already with someone else.

Besides, he'd probably already bollocksed it up anyway, hadn't he? She'd said those fateful words, and he hadn't even realised it! Said nothing in return. Most likely ruined any potential chance he might've had, no matter how small, with his stupid ignorance.

John swallowed those bitter thoughts as he left the building, jogging to the bus station with his messenger bag clutched protectively under his arm to shield it from the rain.  
He'd just keep his head lowered to avoid catching sight of her, he decided.

Sticking to this decision, he kept his head down as the bus came to a stop in front of him, partly also to shield his eyes from the falling drops, so he didn't quite notice the person stepping out of the bus just when he was about to enter it. A shoulder collided into his, throwing him off balance and making him stumble backwards down the step. He grabbed blindly for the opened door but his fingers slipped off the wet surface, resulting in his bum making the rather unpleasant acquaintance of a shallow puddle.

And as if that hadn't been bad enough, he realised he'd lost grip of his messenger bag, which was now lying on the other end of said puddle. Cursing quietly, he crawled towards it - getting the front of his trousers soaked as well - to rescue the laptop and research papers inside it.

A pair of feminine legs entered his field of vision, and he dimly registered a voice above him asking if he was all right, next to the sound of the rain hitting an umbrella, just as he pulled his dripping bag out of the puddle.

Before he could answer, the sound of the engine behind him turning up distracted him. "Oh, _of course_!" he grumbled into the noise – the bus was leaving without him to top the day off.

"Come again?" the voice requested.

With a deep sigh John stood up, wiping the worst of the wetness off the bag with his jacket sleeve along the way. "Never mind, just _definitely_ not my day," he replied sullenly, not caring to keep his bad mood out of his voice.

Once he finished wiping his bag, he looked up – and froze at the sight in front of him.

It was _her_.

His attractive blon–... No, wait, scratch that; he really shouldn't call her 'his', even in his mind – one, she _wasn't_ his in any way, and two, she was not an object to be owned but her own person, destined by fate or not. (And he really shouldn't let his thoughts run away with him like that; focus!)  
In any case, it was a certain blonde he had tried his best to avoid for the past few days, and who was now standing right in front of him at his stop, staring at him with a surprised expression of her own.

She was the first to blink and find her voice after a moment of awkward staring. "You know, that bum of yours seems to end up wet rather often," she commented with a hint of tongue peeking out between her smile.

It took a moment for his brain to kick in and his eyes to tear themselves away from the hint of pink between her lips. "Usually thanks in no small part to someone else's actions, though," was the first thing his distracted mind provided him with in response, and he nearly winced at how rude it had come out – even if it was the truth.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that, I didn't think you'd enter right away," she apologised with just the briefest hint of rebuke in the last part.

Well, maybe he'd just imagined the rebuke, but it did remind him that it was the polite thing to let passengers get out first, so maybe he wasn't quite in the right to be rude about it here.

Another thing hit him then: _they were talking_. He'd actually _said_ something to her! And...

And she didn't show any particular reaction to his words.

He should be relieved by that, really, should make staying clear of her much easier. But he found traitorous disappointment tugging at his drenched shoulders instead.  
_Idiot_. Apparently he'd gotten his hopes up despite his intentions, after all...

"I don't think tissues are going to be of much help this time round..."

Blinking, John searched the woman's face in confusion, momentarily pulled out of his disappointment by the seemingly random statement. "Huh?" he asked intelligently.

She gestured with her free hand at his soaked trousers in reply.

Ah. Well, not much tissues could do about those, indeed... Which suddenly reminded him of something: "Your tissues!"

Now it was her time blink at him, startled by the sudden exclamation.

"Sorry?"

"I completely forgot about them! You asked me to return them, and I just–... Sorry, I'm usually more considerate, uhm... I'll be sure to bring a packet with me tomorrow? Know how useful and needed they can be, of course, I mean, I was the best example back then, wasn't I?" he babbled, watching as her face grew more and more bemused with each word that tumbled out of his mouth. "Aaand I'm rambling. Sorry," he finally finished with a tug on his right earlobe, feeling it grow warm in embarrassment.

The as yet still nameless blonde fought an amused smile by pressing her lips together, which kind of reassured him that he apparently hadn't weirded her out too much. Which was a small blessing.  
The relief lasted for just a short moment, though, as she went to check her watch then – a universal hint at letting someone know that you wanted to leave.

Which is why the next thing she said completely took him by surprise:

"Tell you what, there's an excellent chippy nearby – they have working heating and lots and lots of quality napkins we can use for any upcoming emergencies. And really good chips, too!" she grinned. "I've been running late for my appointment anyway, and basically just missed it for good," she added with a small shrug while tucking a blonde lock of hair behind her ear.

John found himself staring at her completely gobsmacked. That was definitely not how he had expected the rest of his day to go.

She seemed to misinterpret his expression though, as her own face fell a little in reaction. "Right, sorry, that probably sounded a bit forward..."

"Oh, no, no, no!" he was quick to reassure her. "Not at all! I was just surprised, is all. And I do like chips, tasty little things they are! Well, considering they're fast food."

_Ah._ His mouth had run a little ahead of him there... Hadn't he been planning on avoiding her for a very good reason?

"Yeah?" she asked with a bright smile that silenced the cautionary voice in the back of his mind.

"Yeah," he found himself smiling in return – until something occured to him, instantly wiping the smile off his face again. "Won't your boyfriend get jealous, though?"

She blinked in apparent confusion, followed by a frown. "Boyfriend?"

"Yeah, you know... " Another awkward tug on his ear. "The one you've been on the phone with and went to meet last time I saw you on the bus... Not that I was trying to eavesdrop or anything," he quickly added with wide eyes, realising how it sounded. "I just happened to catch that when I walked pass you, really. And it sounded like you were close..." he finished with a mental wince, hoping he didn't sound too much like some creep trying to stalk her.

Her frown deepend. "But who could you possibly mean...?" she wondered aloud, until realisation dawned on her face. "You mean Jack?!" She let out a laugh, the tinkling sound nearly making him miss her next statement. "Oh, Jack is definitely not my boyfriend!"

"But, I thought... I mean, not that I wanted to assume anything, but the way you talked to him seemed rather... wellll..."

"Oh, Jack just enjoys a good flirt, is all," she smirked in reply. "With _anyone_ who's up for it, really. After a while it just becomes natural to flirt back – trust me."

"So you're not...?" he asked, barely daring to hope.

A small, almost shy smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "No."

The wide, answering grin on his own lips appeared before he even had a chance to stop it.

"So, chips? Doesn't look like it's going to stop anytime soon..." she finally prompted after a brief moment of them smiling at each other in the rain, reminding John that he was getting wetter with each passing minute.

"Sounds good," he agreed before his previous mood could catch up with him and remind him of why this was supposedly a terribly bad idea. It was amazing how just a few exchanged words and smiles in her company had already brightened his day considerably, and he was unwilling to let go of the elated feeling just yet. (Not to forget that her announcement of not seeing anyone was making his stomach do somersaults, which should actually worry him, really. But he couldn't find it in himself to worry just then.)

They began walking, and the woman switched the hand holding her umbrella as the angle was a bit awkward with them walking next to each other. After watching her struggle for several seconds, trying to find an angle that would allow them to walk close to each other while covering them both with her considerably shorter height, John finally moved his messenger back under his left arm and held out his right hand for the umbrella. "Let me?"

"Ta," she replied, handing it over to him so he could hold it up more easily above their heads with his taller frame. "Oh – I'm Rose, by the way."

"Rose," he repeated, tasting the name on his tongue. "Lovely name – it suits you."

She acknowledged the compliment with a small smile – probably got compliments about it all the time, as people named after flowers tended to get that a lot. It really did suit her, though. A pretty woman named after a pretty flower, who let all kinds of feelings blossom within him.

When he didn't say anything else after several moments, she prompted with a teasing voice, "Usually that's the part were the other side shares their name."

"Right, sorry! Blimey, don't know where I'm having my head today... It's John."

"Well, good to finally meet you properly, John."

And there he went lost in her smile again. It was a good thing the chippy really wasn't too far away, or he might've run risk to further embarrass himself by running into a street lamp or something, with all of his focus being on her.

* * *

John Noble was officially smitten.

Which made a lot of varying emotions run through him, and which he was now contemplating while they were waiting for their bus back at the stop. They had spent nearly three hours in the tiny chippy, completely losing track of time as they got lost in conversation, and the more that he learned about Rose, the more he felt the attraction grow.

Which now left his wary nature towards close relationships and the potential of losing them, battling the elation over the attraction apparently being returned, judging by Rose's hand that was still clasped in his. Somehow their hands had ended up touching during the walk back, and he didn't even know who took hold of the other's first, but the important thing was that she hadn't let go.

Oh, and then there was also the lingering intimidation by the prospect of most likely having found his fated soulmate.

With 'likely' being a keyword, as she had not even reacted to his First Words... Something that just added to the conflicting mix of emotions running through him. Had that moment in the bus, where she'd first spoken to him, perhaps just been a coincidence of cosmic proportion? Well, knowing his luck...

But blimey, she was _gorgeous_. Inside and outside. And to even have a potential chance at being with her...

John was pulled out of his musings when he noticed Rose shivering next to him. While the rain had stopped a while ago, it had lowered the temperature quite a bit, making the blonde probably regret her choice of not wearing a jacket, especially after they had been sitting inside the warm chippy for such a long time.

"Cold?"

"A bit," she admitted, which was prompty followed by another shiver.

He took off his bag, undid the two buttons of his pinstriped jacket and shrugged out of it, before holding it open to her in an offer and making her giggle.

"Bit cliché, innit? But thanks," she allowed with a smile and turned her back towards him so he could hang it on her shoulders.

As John was about to lower the jacket on her partly bared shoulder, he spotted words peeking out from under the wide neckline of her jumper, barely readible in the faint street light, and froze.

That looked suspiciously like an ' _ot my day'_.

Without thinking, he pushed the material to the side to look at the whole tattoo.

And there it was:

_'Never mind, just definitely not my day'_

He just had enough time to take the whole sentence in, before Rose jerked away from his touch.

"Oi! Don't you think that's a bit personal!"

The angered look on her face instantly had him panicking about already having mucked things up, just when he had his confirmation, and he threw his hands up in a placating gesture, his jacket swinging along to the movement.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to invade your privacy, just–"

When her expression didn't change, other than an unimpressed eyebrow being raised, he felt the panic inrease.

"Just?"

"Please, let me explain–" On reflex he bent down to roll up his right trouser leg, followed by pushing his sock down, and then bent the leg up with the support of his hands, presenting the Words tattooed on his ankle to her, ignoring the odd looks thrown his way from some people who passed them.

"This is what you said to me that day on the bus."

He watched realisation dawn on Rose's face as her eyes took in the tattoo.

"I just had to check when I saw yours, because you didn't show any reaction to my First Words earlier, and... yeah. Guess I should've still asked permission first, though. Sorry," he finished lamely as he lowered his leg again.

When Rose looked up at him, the pevious anger was replaced by stunned surprise.

"But... you didn't show any reaction yourself!" she accused.

He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand and felt his face grow warm. "Call me an idiot, but I didn't even realise it until after you had already left the bus..."

For a moment they simply stared at each other, and John only remembered his jacket when he felt the cool air nip at his bared leg. He held it up to her again in another offer, hoping she would accept it and his apology. Relief flooded through him when she took a step towards him and turned her back to him again after a second, accepting the jacket.

They spent another moment in silence, each lost to their own thoughts, until Rose spoke again.

"Is that why you didn't take the bus again for almost the whole week? Because I said them?"

He winced. "Well, that, and..."

"And you thought I had a boyfriend..." she finished, realisation colouring her voice.

"Yeah," he said softly. "And you?"

"Hm?"

"Why didn't you react to mine?" he couldn't help asking.

Rose fell silent, pulling his jacket closer to her body and dropping her gaze. He was starting to grow nervous with her silence when she finally spoke again.

"Let's just say I had a bloke taking advantage of the Words after seeing them on my shoulder, so I learned the hard way not to trust them. Was a bit too late when I saw his and realised they were wrong."

John felt his face grow pale with fury on her behalf. Faking the Words after spotting them on someone during a first meeting was the lowest kind of deceptiveness; betraying someone's trust like that... Especially someone as warm as Rose.

"Blimey, that's... I'm so sorry..."

She shrugged and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Been a long time ago now."

He puffed out a sigh. "I feel even more of an arse now for not asking permission to look at them..."

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry for confusing you by not reacting to yours," she surprised him by replying. "But, you know what, this all has a good side to it, though."

"It does?"

"Yeah – because I could let myself get to like you without the pressure of them being obviously exchanged, making it obligatory to expect attraction. And that's been definitely there, First Words or not."

John's heartrate picked up, and he felt his body moving closer to her. "Has it now?"

"Mhm," she confirmed. "And it’s still going pretty strong," she added cheekily, tongue peeking out between her lips.

"Well", he murmured in a low voice, his face leaning in close on its own accord, while his eyes where focused on the tempting hint of pink, "The feeling is entirely mutual."

Again he was not quite sure who made the first move, but he found that he couldn't care less as he caressed her full lips with his own, marvelling at how right the intimate contact felt. And as he got lost in the kiss, the feeling pushed all naggling worries about potential loss to the far back of his mind, deciding to just live in the here and now for the moment.

It was Rose who broke the kiss off after a good while, nodding towards their waiting bus that he hadn't even noticed had arrived, with a beautiful, swollen smile on her face.

"Guess that is us."

"Indeed it is."

_\- END -_


End file.
